


Our Stories (are not yet over)

by AngeNoir



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Ableism, Accessibility Issues, Angst, Everybody Lives, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Physical Disability, Sibling Incest, internalized ableism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:56:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7823935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngeNoir/pseuds/AngeNoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kili knows it's unfair to be cruel, to be sharp, but he watches Tauriel and Fili, the only two who really stay near him now, and he knows they could be good together.</p><p>He also knows there's not much more he's good for, now.</p><p>Tauriel and Fili, though, they might disagree with that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Our Stories (are not yet over)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady_Katana4544](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Katana4544/gifts).



“She’s here to see you again.”

Kili did his best not to snap at his brother, because what would she see in him right now, anyway? What could she possibly see in him ever again?

Fili, however, being Fili, could see in his eyes what he kept from his tongue. “You need to be outside, Kili. I have never once seen you go a fortnight without being out beneath the stars once. She would like to take you outside, in the fresh air. I think it would do you good.”

Kili clenched his fist, tried not to snarl out something cruel. He’d been cruel enough already, and Fili didn’t deserve it.

No more than she did, and there was a reason he kept himself away in his chambers. The more that he spent time around others, the more likely it was he would say something he should never say.

“Would you rather I bring her here?” Fili asked, and his voice was neutral – no cutting sarcasm, no teasing, nothing that Kili was used to hearing.

Because Kili was fragile, and because Kili would probably never walk again, and because Kili was useless now.

But he knew how stubborn she was, and that she and Fili were talking behind Kili’s back. What with the mountain now underneath his uncle’s rule, what with the rebuilding and the many, many peoples and caravans were trickling into Erebor – there was little remembrance spared for the young prince whose spine was shattered by Bolg.

He wasn’t the only one with grievous injuries still healing, of course. He was definitely glad his uncle lived through Azog’s attack, and his uncle still had aches and pains that followed him to this day. He was beyond relieved that Fili had only suffered a fracture, some broken bones, from his drop at Azog’s hands, and that the blade had not damaged anything too terribly vital. It was touch and go, and had Kili been awake and aware he would have been terrified, but as it was, Fili had been pale and bandaged, his leg in a splint, but awake and at his bedside when Kili awoke and then realized he could not feel his legs.

“She will soon make your mind up for you,” Fili warned, and now Kili could hear the frustrated edge in Fili’s voice.

“Then let her make her choice,” Kili growled, glaring into the fireplace.

There was a frustrated sigh, and then Fili turned on his heel and left the room.

Kili’s chambers were set back in the royal quarters, and he supposed at one point he would have loved the large room. It was certainly a huge improvement over their tiny cottage in the foothills of the Blue Mountains, and had he the use of his legs, the ability to travel the large space, he would have reveled in the huge bed, the bookshelves carved into the rock wall on the far side, the slightly smaller though no less opulent side room with a carved out basin for water, a small hot spring bubbling in the corner of the room, a huge fireplace in one corner to keep the room warm, to allow clothes and towels dry.

But now, unable to walk, he was confined to the bed, or the chair in front of the hearth. He could not walk over and change his book when he finished reading; he could not enter the bathroom to relieve himself without calling in one of the guards to help carry him. He could not even get a new piece of wood to carve when he finished with the one he had been working on.

The door opened again, and the familiar guards appeared. Kili was learning to hate them, hate what their presence meant, but he sat quietly as they lifted him and placed him in the modified cart Bofur had designed that would allow him to travel the various walkways. Up and down stairs was still impossible, and Kili kept hoping, praying, that Oin would find something that would heal his spine cleanly, that would allow him to at least stagger around on braces or a cane.

But for now, he had to put up with the indignity of having to be carried to the small, modified pony cart, placed inside like a babe. Fili and Tauriel were waiting down at the end of the hall, talking to one another, and Kili watched the two of them chatter, Fili ducking his head, Tauriel making that soft smile.

They would be good together, Kili thought bleakly. The heir to Erebor’s throne, and the head of Thranduil’s guard. Politically, there were better matches, and society would never accept the two of them together, but Kili could think of no two other people who would stand against the rest of the world.

The two of them walked down to where Kili was, and Kili was sure he was not imagining the pity in their eyes as Fili grabbed the wooden handles and pushed Kili forward. The wooden wheels creaked, and Kili tried to tune out the invasive sound that defined so much of his life now.

“Your brother tells me you have been reading books about the stars,” Tauriel began.

Kili swallowed back the first sharp retort that was on his tongue, and instead modified what he had been going to say. “There is not much to do, here, but they hold my interest.”

“My prince is visiting this kingdom for a fortnight, discussing the activity at Mount Gundabad. I wished to see you, and your brother kindly obliged me.” Tauriel reached into her pocket and pulled out a beautifully crafted chain, with a black stone hanging, inlaid with gold leaf to create beautifully scrawling runes.

“It’s – Tauriel, it’s beautiful,” Kili murmured.

She ducked her head, pale skin flushing a light color, and Fili put a heavy, comforting hand on the back of Kili’s neck, barely a pause in his pushing of Kili’s cart forward.

Clearing her throat, Tauriel turned her head back towards him and Fili. “Is your mother nearly here?” she asked pleasantly.

Kili stayed silent, and after a few moments of uncomfortable quiet, Fili cleared his throat. “Mother is in a caravan, traveling across the Misty Mountains. She last wrote a few days ago, I believe.”

“That’s good. I would like to meet this formidable lady who had such fine young dwarves,” Tauriel murmured.

The royal quarters were normally set deep in the mountain, heavily protected, which meant a large number of stairs and impassable narrow bridges Kili’s cart could not travel, but there was a winding uphill ramp that led up and out of a spire on the mountain. There was a tiny trail down, one that Kili’s cart could not use, but the purpose of tonight, he supposed, was not to travel any great distance but only to get Kili into open air. The trail itself was probably some escape route or tunnel from some long-ago king; certainly, no one ever walked the trail or was up that high on the mountain. Kili had been told many stories about it by Fili, each one trying more obviously to tempt him into accepting a trip out there, and each time Kili had tuned Fili out.

The ride itself to the outer door was bumpy; small pits and pockmarks in the stone that would not bother a casual traveler rattled Kili’s bones. Well, the parts of him that could rattle. He knew he had bones in the lower part of his body still, knew that he had muscles there that Oin would regularly try to exercise, that Oin was speaking of treatments that might restore feeling, braces, a range of herbs and foods and diets that were supposed to restore feeling.

He was tired. He just wanted to be left alone.

The outer door loomed ahead, and Tauriel increased her steps to reach it, to open it for Fili and Kili. The passageway revealed was a little narrow – for a moment, the hope Kili had had about really seeing the stars was ruthlessly quashed.

“I’m done with this,” Kili said, voice curt. “I just want to go back to my quarters, Fili.”

“Easy, brother, I’ve already tested this. It’ll work. It’s fine,” Fili grunted with exertion, and Kili felt the chair shift slightly as the ramp inclined upwards. Gripping the side, he stared at the nearness of the passage’s walls, looked around at the rough stone that had minimal carving or shaping done to it. Up here, at the top of the mountain, the rock glittered with minerals that sunk in from the water that ran down the sides of the mountain.

Kili didn’t know how to help – he couldn’t, really, when it came down to it, and he could see out of the corners of his eyes how Fili’s arms strained to push the chair up the passageway, how he took great care not to overly shake or bump the little cart, and normally, when he watched this, all he felt was helpless outrage and furious shame.

Now, though, as they turned a narrow corner and the rock gave way to the huge expanse of night sky spread out before them, stars glittering in the sky like the minerals in the very rock he just passed, perfect and beautiful – now, all he could feel was an odd mix of elation, relief, and shame.

It had been so long since he had seen the sky, had felt the wind against his face. Not since the battle for the Lonely Mountain – not since Bolg had lifted him high and cracked something vital in his spine.

Tauriel came over to Fili, and the two of them had obviously planned ahead; there was a thick fur spread across a ledge, nearly at the edge of the mountain, and there was a shuttered lantern, a basket that emitted rich, wonderful smells.

“Come, brother,” Fili grunted, positioning his cart so that it would not roll or fall, and then moving to the front and holding out his arms. “The fresh air will do you good, and we have some very thick wool blankets, should you have need of them.”

Kili was in too good of a mood from looking at the stars to do anything except spread his arms in reply, letting Fili heft him up as if Kili was a wee dwelf instead of a full-grown adult. He hadn’t even noticed, not until Fili grinned unreservedly at him, but he was smiling, breathing in slow and deep, sucking in the freshness as much as he could.

“We should have done this ages ago,” Fili remarked, helping Kili settle on the furs, pulling some blankets out from the basket to reveal still-warm bread, thick, juicy cuts of meat dripping with grease and sauces, and fresh slices of fruit still chilled from the coldbox.

Before now, Kili had not had much of an appetite, but the food was too tempting to let to go to waste, and he found himself eating more now than he had for the past fortnight.

He had no idea how long they stayed up there – long past when they finished the food, the sky not yet lightening with the dawn but there was definitely some soft light creeping in at the edges of the horizon, the wind increasing to whip his hair about his face – but when he was ready to go back inside, he turned to bring it up to Tauriel and Fili.

They were sitting a little ways behind him on the fur, Tauriel slumped against Fili’s side, asleep, Fili smiling softly up at her, their fingers linked.

Rapidly, Kili whipped his head back and stared out, this time blindly, at the horizon. He could remember when Fili would smile at _him_ that way, when Fili had treated him with reverence and casual intimacy. He could even remember the half-aware dancing and courting he’d attempted with Tauriel, that had been tentatively returned.

Now, they found peace in one another. Who was he, a cripple, to drag that down, to

be jealous of their happiness?

Roughly, he dashed tears away from the corners of his eyes and stared determinedly down the mountain. It had been a few months since he’d been injured, confined to his quarters, and now in the gradual light of the oncoming dawn, he could see the walls of the city of Dale nearly rebuilt, spires rising up to the sky from the ground. Such progress made in such little time.

How much more would he miss, locked away underground?

His mood now thoroughly sour, he dropped his head and gazed only at his clenched hands in his lap. He could feel the barest echo of sensation on his thighs, practically nothing at all. He had nothing, and he had to wait for Fili and Tauriel to be ready to go inside.

There was a soft murmur behind him, a delicate-sounding yawn, and then Fili was kneeling beside Kili, a concerned look on his face. “Faring well, brother? Are you ready to return indoors?”

“Yes,” Kili replied curtly, doing his best not to say anything else, not to let his sharp tongue loose.

Still, Tauriel and Fili could tell something was not quite right. The entire walk back – which was made mildly faster by the fact that the path sloped downwards, though Kili gripped the seat of the chair tightly to keep from slipping forward – Fili and Tauriel tried to engage him in speaking, in discussing recent news. Kili kept his eyes trained on his knees, his mouth fixed in a permanent scowl.

Back at Kili’s room, Fili pushed the chair inside the door. It was a tight fit – there was a reason that the guards always picked him up and took him outside of the room to get into the cart – and more than once, Kili was sure Fili had stuck the cart in the doorway. When they were finally through, Kili was trying not to seethe too obviously, and Fili was red from exertion.

Tauriel, of course, looked perfect, not a hair out of place. She always looked that way.

She closed the door behind them as Fili pushed Kili over to the bed and lifted him out and onto the thick mattress. Tauriel wandered the room, looking at the bookshelves, the whittling by the hearth, even into the bathrooms.

“You two should not be in here,” Kili finally bit out, unable to take Fili’s fussing any longer and Tauriel’s nosiness.

They both paused, and looked at him in confusion.

“You have missed all your sleep this evening, spending it with me, and when I’m sure your company could be better suited to others who are not such a burden,” he continued roughly.

“Kili, no, never a burden,” Fili said instantly, gripping his forearm. Kili yanked his arm away.

Hesitantly, Tauriel came over to the bed, sat down next to him. “There is another reason my prince came. He has brought two fine elvish healers, well-known. They will be discussing with your healer. In the meantime, there is… another gift that your brother designed for you.”

“You two,” Kili repeated, breathing in as slow as possible to calm the shaking in his voice – of pain, of rage, or of fear, he did not know – “should not be in here.”

Fingers forced into his clenched fist, and he looked down to see Fili lacing their hands together, gripping him tightly. “Please, Kili. You push and you push—”

Light fingers trailed over his cheek, down his neck, and he flinched away violently, upset to feel liquid prick his eyes and watch his limbs quiver. “I do not want you here,” he panted, voice jagged. “I want you gone.”

“I hesitate to call you a liar, Kili,” Tauriel murmured. “Because I believe that’s what you want right now. But I cannot understand why you would want such a thing, when your brother and I want nothing else but to be by your side.”

“I _cannot_ have anyone by my side!” he shouted, yanking his arms away from the both of them, wrapping his hands around his chest tightly, almost crushingly. “You would tower above, because you two are _whole_ and I am not! You two find peace with one another and I bring nothing but problem after problem!”

Lips pressed against the corner of his mouth, against his knuckles – and it took him a moment to realize it was _two_ sets of lips, two brushes of breath against his skin, and his eyes flew wildly open.

Tauriel leaned back, running a thumb over his broad hands, and Fili reached up to cup his face, to cradle it.

“We want nothing more to find peace _with you_ ,” Fili said, and his voice was harsh, rough. There were tears in his eyes, but that look – it was the same look Kili saw when Fili went after the dwarves who had been bullying him, the same look that meant Fili had made up his mind.

He glanced over at Tauriel, and she was solemn, eyes dark and big in her face. “I would say you are wrong, Kili, because peace is where we make it, and problems are what we make it, and you are still whole no matter what you may think.”

Before they could say any more, there was a knock at the door, and then it opened to reveal one of the guards, pushing a slim metal chair into the room. He glanced at the three of them, grimaced slightly, and left the chair in the room and exited.

“What—” Kili croaked, and stopped, because the chair was…

It was obviously designed to be a replacement for the cart he had been using. There were runes inscribed over the edges, gold twisted and twined around the wheels. There was a cushion, a resting point for his feet. The wheels were large, coming up to the sides of the chair, and smaller wheels in the front let the chair keep its balance.

“The cart – it was a good idea, but a difficult one. It necessitates someone to always be with you, but you, Kili, you are the most independent person I know,” Fili said, and he was babbling in the way he always did when he had made or done something he wasn’t sure Kili would like. “These wheels you can roll yourself. There is a locking mechanism, to hold it in place, and the small wheels are very mobile; throwing you weight one way or another would allow you to change direction.”

Kili gaped at it, and then at them.

“As I was saying,” Tauriel whispered, holding his gaze steadily, though uncertainty and fear flickered in the back of her eyes. “We can overcome any problem, find any peace, when we put our mind to it. Will you allow us to do so by your side?”

Kili – for the first time in a long time, Kili felt hope break open his chest and pour into his heart. He cleared his throat roughly, aware that tears were leaking down his face and unable to stop them in the slightest. “It seems as if I have been outvoted on this,” he tried, voice trembling.

“If you do not want—” Tauriel began immediately, starting to stand up, but Fili, fast as a snake, snagged her arm, held her still.

“Yes, brother, outvoted and out-argued. We are here to stay.”

His tears made it hard to see, to focus, and so all he did was sniffle and relax his grip around his chest. Instantly, Tauriel leaned forward, kissing his ear, his chin, and Fili was suddenly there, wrapping warmth around his shoulders.

Kili had no idea what he had done to deserve this, to deserve _them_ , but he believed them when they said they would figure out their future together.


End file.
